Acquired Taste
by sneauxfo
Summary: Gatlocke and Rex go on a fruit-picking date because I am sad forever.


A FUCKING FLUFFYASS MINI-FIC BECAUSE WONKER8 HAS DESTROYED ME AND THE LATEST FREE! EP HAS DESTROYED ME AND THE FUCKING KILL LA KILL OVA AND THERE WILL BE SCARS ON MY FACE FROM HOW MANY TEARS I'VE CRIED

**Title-** Acquired Taste

**Sum-** Gatlocke and Rex go on a fruit-picking date because I am sad forever.

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"There's an easier way to do this, y'know," Rex calls down, not for the first time. Despite that, his arms still stretch up, although it's certain by now they will not grow longer, and he will not get closer to the infuriatingly barely-out-of-grasp branch.

"Yes, and it's called cheating," Gatlocke retorts back per their repertoire, developed just in the past hour. "And you agreed to my terms."

"Yeah, yeah." Rex's voice drops to a mutter, although if he were honest, it's more for show than for genuine expression. He keeps his face tilted up so Gatlocke won't catch the smile there. "No powers, no Providence, no work-talk. Just you, me, and…these weird ball things."

"Figs, darling," Gatlocke supplies. In his absent mindedness, he reaches into the basketfull at hand for one and twists the stem off before popping the whole of it into his mouth. "If you'd come down, I'll quite gleefully hand-feed you some."

However, the uncoordinated movement has set off a chain reaction of imbalance. Rex would've replied, "I told you, I can get these last ones," but he's not given the chance. Instead he's flailing his arms to keep from toppling off his place on Gatlocke's shoulders, and all his wobbling causes Gatlocke to loose footing and stumble backwards.

And one step too far is what sends them both tumbling down the hill screaming.

Well, Rex is screaming. Gatlocke, on the other hand- and Rex swears he's such a freak- sounds like he's cackling the whole way down.

They land in a heap at the foot of the hill, figs smashed into their clothes, hair, and skin, and Gatlocke still has the nerve to laugh. Rex is still trying to blink out the way the world is still rolling in his vision, when Gatlocke turns him over and kisses him.

It's not their first kiss. That had been done and over with ages ago, and Rex still gets goosebumps over the image of Gatlocke hovering over him with a leer on his face and blood running down the side of his head. He still remembers how much it hurt, how raw and swelled his lips were left, like Gatlocke had been fucking his mouth rather than kissing him.

This moment is on the other end of the spectrum. Just a brief pressure against his parted lips, not even any tongue, but Rex is still able to notice the faint left-behind flavor of sweet, sticky fruit in the wake of Gatlocke's mouth.

"An acquired taste, methinks," suggests Gatlocke, once he's drawn back and Rex is still in a stupor, and it's as if he believes he's actually talking about the figs.

"I like it," Rex admits, perhaps a bit too readily.

He bashfully dodges the glance Gatlocke tosses him, but doesn't miss the smirk on the man's face.

"Good," says Gatlocke, voice coated heavily with something Rex can't place. "As do I."

Gatlocke kisses him again, in the same way. And then again, deeper.

And earlier in the day, Rex couldn't have imagined feeling as content as he is now. Because Holiday put in her two weeks to found her own organization focused solely on scientific research, and Six is of course going with her. And there's nothing in the sciences for Rex, but without Holiday and Six, there's essentially nothing for him at Providence. Especially since Bobo had already left to join a comedy club last month.

Holiday told him to go to college, but now that things are slow enough for him to finally be 'normal', he's beginning to miss his old, fast life of constantly being in a state of jeopardy, of saving the world. White Knight hasn't gotten back to him about the state of Providence yet either. Everything is up in the air and Rex isn't sure about anything anymore.

But Gatlocke feels solid and steady around him. Gatlocke holds tight to him like he wouldn't let go if he had it his way. Gatlocke stares at him, and it's like he's looking at a view of the whole world the way his gaze stays unperturbed and always interested.

"Hey, so, was I an acquired taste?" Rex asks in a whim of curiosity.

Gatlocke chuckles, low and lax. "Not nearly. I knew from the start I'd like you. I just didn't realize how much."

Rex actually expects the double blades once they strike- it's a date with Gatlocke after all, and he's been long aware they've fallen way beyond the truce zone. Gatlocke's fast though, and only misses by mere centimeters before Rex can pull himself out of the way. But Rex is fast, too. Before Gatlocke can go for a second try at blood, he's punted him through air and across the field, courtesy of a punk buster.

Rex hops to his feet and shapes his BFS, watching the dark figure pick itself back up from afar and trying not to grin too widely. He doesn't wait for the counterattack, because that'd be letting the advantage fall back into Gatlocke's hands, and loser has to buy dinner. Rex charges.

He thinks about the way figs taste from Gatlocke's mouth, how different today's kiss was from all the others, the fact that Gatlocke was the one to drag him out when otherwise he would've kept to himself and brooded all day- and he flies towards that feeling.

"Hey, Gat! Time to acquire the taste of getting your butt whooped!"

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this is actually an outtake of a larger fic i'm working on. it was supposed to be done literally ages ago, but it's so temperamental and i keep writing things only to have to take them out like this bullshit scene ;;;. bahhhh /o/


End file.
